


SilverFlint Collection

by AngryPirateHusbands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: A collection of SilverFlint drabbles.





	1. Without Your Arms Around Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silver has trouble sleeping. So does Flint.

Silver couldn’t sleep.

This was the first night he had spent below decks since Charlestown. The first night he had gone without Flint’s resting form within his line of sight… within his reach. The first night he felt completely and utterly alone. It didn’t matter that the hold was filled with thirty or so sleeping men, snoring quietly in their hammocks that slowly swung with each gentle tilt of the ship. It didn’t matter that he had fallen asleep down here with ease several times before.

It didn’t matter.

The canvas material of the hammock that clung to his stump felt too uncomfortable against the still-healing wound. The air down here was too stifling, too hot and humid in a way that sought to smother him beneath an invisible weight. The darkness that was usually soothing now felt far too complete. Too absolute.

The crutch was quiet against the floorboards as he shifted from the hammock with notable difficulty. He left both the iron leg and his boot abandoned on the floor, instead opting for a more quiet approach. Up above the wind whipped through his hair with a soothing breeze. Still warm with the heat of dead summer, but refreshing in its own way. The footsteps of the nightly watch were soft, rhythmic still as he passed them by in a straight line towards the captain’s cabin.

He didn’t knock. He never did.

The inside of the cabin was softly illuminated with the light of a single candle. Of course that was not unusual in the least. Flint often left his lantern to burn late into the night until it eventually drowned beneath the pool of its own wax. Perhaps he took comfort from its flickering glow. Perhaps it was merely just another way of further pushing the “legend” of Captain Flint. Not the man, but the monster. The bloodthirsty specter that had formed a pact with the devil himself, who gained protection from a witch within the interior to keep him safe from the sea and the sword. The man who could not be killed. The man who didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. Or perhaps it simply helped to stave off the nightmares and demons that tortured him endlessly.

The moment Silver pressed that heavy door shut behind his back, those green eyes flicked over to meet his own. They were tired, heavy. Deeper than the oceans, more turbulent than the storms, and still that comforting hue of swaying palm leaves. Flint didn’t ask what it was he wanted, why he had come here. He knew. Surely, he knew. So instead he merely shifted on his bunk, sliding closer to the wall to allow enough room for a second body alongside his own, if only just.

The bunk swung slightly beneath the additional weight as Silver slid into the cramped bed and lowered his crutch to the floor. Still, neither offered up any words. Not even when he shifted closer to settle against the crook of Flint’s neck, his fingers lightly clutching at the folds of his shirt, or when those strong arms wrapped around him with the security of a tether. One that always anchored him down, held him steady, no matter the force of the torrid waters that raged below.

Silver’s eyes slipped closed as he finally settled against the other. A soft breath puffed out against that freckled skin as he felt Flint’s nose press against his curls. He too breathed in the scent of the man. The comforting, lingering traces of leather, gun powder, and ocean spray. He felt the thrum of his pulse beating beneath his skin as if it sought to match his own rhythm, to beat in time with the other. He reveled in the sensation of the those work-hardened fingers as they trailed up and down the exposed skin of his forearm.

Eventually, as Silver relaxed beneath the comforting weight of that steadying embrace, sleep finally found him.


	2. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint and Silver both suck at pillow talk. Mostly Silver.

Even when lying naked above the sheets, they were in no way less burdened by the sweltering heat that accompanied the summer months of the Caribbean. It certainly didn’t help that they had just finished fucking out two week’s worth of pent-up stress and frustration. Not just of the sort brought about by this bloody war, but by the ever present need to keep the exact nature of their relationship secret. This alliance was unsteady enough as it was. The last thing either of them needed was for a gutless crewmen to accuse their decisions in battle as being swayed by something as weak as mere sentiment.

Flint allowed himself to stretch back against the crumpled sheets, his leg crooked and his arms outstretched beside him as he released a steadying breath. Silver still panted above him, his legs closely bracketing his sides as he allowed his full weight to rest against where he straddled his middle. His fingernails, though blunt and rounded as they always were, had left tiny crescent-shaped marks all across his chest from where they had nearly broken the skin.

After a moment Silver released a satisfied hum. The sound was low, rising from the back of his throat in a way that nearly made him seem like a wild animal. “Fuck,” he breathed. A drop of sweat broke free from his hairline and fell against his chest as he moved off of him. Flint’s softening length slipped from him easily enough, though it still caused his breath to hitch from the sudden loss of that velvet heat.

The moment Silver collapsed beside him he was gathered into his arms. They simply lay there, breathing in the scent of sex and sweat as they each reveled in the short time they had finally been able to slip away. From the war, from the men, from the world itself. It had been difficult enough to find time to spare with one another before all of this. Now that Madi had entered the fray, as it were, it had become an even more arduous challenge. Still, Flint kept his grumblings to himself. He loved John. And if he held strong feelings for the queen’s daughter, then he would have to share and suffer in silence.

Fingers entangled themselves in those dark curls, Flint’s eyes briefly slipping shut as he massaged the base of Silver’s scalp. He could feel the wet release on his thigh from where the man now pressed against him, growing tacky in the summer heat, but he didn’t much mind it. He never did. In fact, it only strengthened that all-encompassing weight within his chest each time he saw Silver undone like this. His sated body flushed, soft and malleable, as he lay tucked against his side.

The soft lilt of Silver’s chuckle was enough to coax him from his reverie. Green eyes cracked opened to peer down at him, a single brow quirked. “What is it?” he dared to ask. His voice was made course like sand from the soreness in his throat.

Silver merely shook his head as another chuckle escaped his lips. The faint movement caused those mussed curls to tickle against his chest. This only caused Flint’s expression to harden further.

“What?” he asked again, his tone dead panning.

Silver didn’t immediately answer, at least not before poking his finger against the gentle slope of Flint’s belly. “I think you need to ease off the rum,” he explained gently. When those blue eyes met his they held nothing but mischief, as did that usual grin he still shared in private.

Flint offered a derisive snort in return. Unfortunately, instead of silencing the man this only seemed to spur him on.

“Really,” Silver coaxed, his unruly beard scraping against his skin. His work-hardened fingers traced over the splattering of freckles on his chest before returning to his stomach once more. While his next words were certainly quieter than the ones that preceded it, he still spoke loud enough for him to hear clearly. “And here I thought Madi would be the one to get pregnant..”

Flint balked. “You little shit,” he swore angrily.

Yet before he could get another word in, Silver interjected. “Perhaps if you’d stop being so lazy and get on top for _once_ –” Flint scoffed, another long string of curses leaving his lips with each one louder than the last. It was all he could do to resist that part of him that wanted to shove Silver off the bed. Yet the moment he caught sight of those eyes, alight with a mirth only strengthened by the smile that followed it, he found his anger dissipating.

Still, a scowl pulled at the corner of his mouth as he huffed out a breath. “I can’t believe you found not one, but two people that will put up with your constant shit,” he growled after several moments.

Silver offered a contented hum, smirking still as he pressed a firm, wet kiss against his collarbone.


End file.
